Without
by Elizabeth Wilde
Summary: The X-Men's newest addition could prove fatal to Logan and Jean's relationship.


Author: Elizabeth Wilde  
Title: Without [AU]  
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it, www dot biteyourtonguet dot net /wilde [my site]  
Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, unfortunately. No copyright infringement is intended. I don't make any money for this.  
'Ship: Scott/Jean, Logan/Jean, Logan/Rogue  
Classification: angst, gen  
Summary: The X-Men's newest addition could prove fatal to Logan and Jean's relationship.  
Rating: R  
Spoilers: none. This baby's AU.  
Feedback: to wildeforce at yahoo dot com

Jean could feel her lover tense at her side and laid a calming hand on his arm. "You didn't have to come," she reminded him. When Logan remained silent, she stopped in the middle of the hall and looked over at him. "Go wait in the car."

"What? Jeannie, I can-"

Jean smiled and shook her head, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I can handle it, Logan. You'll just end up making him more nervous as tense as you are."

Logan scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. "I just hate hospitals. And doctors. No offense," he added. They laughed quietly together at the old joke and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Just you call me if things get weird."

"I've been seeing you for two years. How much weirder can it get?" Jean teased, eyes shining.

"Funny." Logan shook his head and walked back toward the exit, giving Jean a quick wave of good-bye.

She watched him walk away with a smile. Whatever their differences--and there were many--Jean loved him. She had become attached to the wild man who came to the school seeking his past and had fallen in love with the quiet one who lived inside the first. He was dangerous, passionate, but gentle, kind. Jean counted herself lucky to have found someone like him.

Her mind shifted focus as she started back down the hallway of the institution. She frowned. The man Professor Xavier had told her about should have been found sooner, should have been brought to the school when his powers surfaced. His parents, it seemed, had other plans and had instead covered up the damage the surfacing of their son's powers at a school dance had caused as best they could and forced him into a private institution. Jean could easily see why the place made Logan uneasy. I'm a doctor and it's giving me the willies. If a friend of Xavier's hadn't known the man who ran the institute, no one might have discovered their new charge lost in a shuffle of the insane and the recovering addicts at the institution.

He's been here for... what? Fifteen years? It'll be a wonder if he's still got a grip, let alone any trust left. But Xavier had gravely insisted that she go and at least try to convince the young man to accompany her back to the school. Logan, naturally, had insisted on coming as well.

Jean glanced at the numbers above the doors as she passed. 314. This is the place. The nameplate beside the door was too old and faded to be read anymore. She wondered absently if anyone ever even bothered to visit, then wished she hadn't as another chill passed over her.

After a brief pause to collect herself, Jean knocked on the door. No reply came and she gently turned the knob, ducking her head in. The room was clinically barren, all traces of life seemingly scrubbed from the white and silver interior. There were no pictures or books or other remembrances to mark that anyone occupied the space. "Hello?"

Spotting movement toward the back of the shadowed room, Jean stepped closer. A young man--presumably the one she came for--sat on the room's single bed, back to her. "I'm not hungry," he stated as if hers was a common interruption. "Go away."

Jean stepped closer. "Scott Summers?"

The man's head jerked up and his back stiffened. "What? Who are you?" His tone was guarded, edgy.

"My name is Jean Grey," she replied, purposefully dropping her doctoral title. "I come from a place called Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. We help people like yourself," she explained gently, constantly moving closer to the bed.

"I went to school," he stated as if that ended the argument.

"I know," Jean replied, finally coming around the bed to stand in front of the man. There was tape over his eyes and she could see the roll it had come from on the nearby bedside table along with a pair of scissors. "This really doesn't have anything to do with studying, at least not the way you're thinking." For a brief moment, Jean considered trying to touch the man's mind, but his guard was up so high that even success would likely mean scaring him away completely. "Professor Xavier runs the school as a haven for mutants," she stated bluntly. "We heard about your particular ability through a friend of the Professor's. We would like you to come to the school, to learn to use your ability."

"Use it?" A bitter smile twisted the man's lips and he snorted in disgust. "Yeah, maybe I could kill a couple of your students for you. Keep the student/teacher ratio down. Look, Ms. Grey, I don't know what you think I am, but there's nothing you or anybody else can do about it."

"You're right. We can't cure you. We can help you, though. We can find a way to control your ability, to-"

"My mutation."

"Your mutation," Jean repeated, voice free of the bitterness his carried. "There is nothing wrong with being a mutant, Scott."

"Of course not." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "That's why I've spent most of my fucking life in this institution waiting to die."

Jean felt her heart constrict. "Your parents didn't understand the potential-"

"Potential?" He sounded genuinely angry. "Look, this isn't some kind of goddamned gift! I'm a freak! I haven't opened my damn eyes in the past sixteen years because if I do, I could kill someone! You can't just come in here after all this time and think-"

"No matter what you might think, Mr. Summers, I'm here to help," Jean interrupted, voice calm but edged with steel. "I can promise you that Professor Xavier and I, along with everyone else at the school, will do anything and everything we can to help you. But only if you let us. The choice is yours."

Deflated, the man ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and sighed. "I just... How am I supposed to believe that after all this time, someone can help me?"

"Because I can," Jean replied, taking his hand in hers. She gasped at the sudden, near-electric jolt that passed through her entire body at the contact. She felt his fingers tighten around hers and knew he must have felt it too. Her heart pounded so loudly she could almost hear the blood pulsing through her body. Suddenly she pulled back as if burned, mind reeling. Jean could feel his emotions resonating in her mind, turbulent, almost violent. She put a hand on the bed to steady herself. "God..."

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded, face turned in her general direction, clearly as confused by the energy as she.

"I... I don't... I'm not sure," Jean stammered. "I've never experienced anything like that before." A wave of confusion that felt oddly foreign and comforting spilled into her mind and she realized she could still feel his emotions. "I... I have telekinetic and psychic abilities. It's my mutation. Somehow, when I touched you... We're somehow linked."

"Linked? What-"

The door to the room flew open and Logan burst in. "Jeannie? You okay?" He was at her side, face tight with worry. "I could hear ya... I dunno... projectin'?"

Jean offered Logan a quick smile. "Sorry. Just... This is Scott," she finally said, gesturing to the man on the bed.

Logan had the presence of mind to look at least uncomfortable. "Sorry 'bout bargin' in like that, kid, but-"

"I'm not a fucking kid."

Jean could feel the muscles in Logan's arm tighten under her hand and broke in, "He calls half the people he knows kid. Logan has heightened healing ability, and it means he ages very slowly... most people are a good deal younger than he is, and he sometimes forgets that not everyone likes to be treated like they're infants because of it." At the last, she threw Logan a pointed glare and he scowled.

"Yeah, k-Scott, no offense intended. I just don't do diplomatic real well. That's why Jeannie's our PR and not me."

Scott snorted and managed the briefest flicker of a smile. "In that case, don't worry about it. Not like I'm used to better treatment anyway."

The door opened again, and an annoyed-looking nurse entered the room without ceremony, glaring at Logan. "Is he bothering you?" she asked no one in particular.

"No," Scott replied firmly. "You are." The woman shot him a dirty look and then wheeled around, heels clicking on the dingy white floor as she headed back down the hallway. "So... Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, huh?"

Jean smiled. "Yes. You'll come?"

"What the Hell. Can't be any worse, can it?" He rose carefully, fingers brushing the wall to get his bearings. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we get you signed out and you gather your things."

"Things?" Scott shook his head. "There isn't a damn thing I want to take out of this place, if it's all the same to you."

"Of course," Jean replied quietly. "In that case, we can go sign you out now."

"The sooner the better," Scott returned grimly.

That night, after seeing that Scott was settled into his new room just down the hall from the one she shared with Logan, Jean lay in her lover's arms. Guilt gnawed at the back of her mind, and she couldn't get her thoughts to quiet. Sturdy mental walls held the feelings away from Logan, and that only made the guilt worse. Why did I think of him? She had caught herself on the verge of moaning the wrong name as Logan made love to her earlier in the evening. I almost called him Scott.

She could feel tears of shame stinging her eyes and rose carefully from the bed, not wanting to disturb Logan's sleep. You need a distraction,she assured herself. You just need to think about something else for awhile. Focus.

Jean descended to her lab and threw herself fully into running tests to design something to contain and channel Scott's power. There has to be a way. And I'll be damned if I'm going to give up before I find it.

"That Logan guy said you wanted me down here," a voice from behind Jean said suddenly.

She had been so absorbed in her work that the presence had almost escaped her notice. Then she realized she had sensed it all along, even before Scott walked into the infirmary, that she hadn't been unaware of him since they touched the day before. "Yes. I think I've found something that may help you."

It had been almost a week, a week of Jean spending day and night inside the lab, catching cat naps and eating rarely. Logan was worried, but she shooed him out of the room whenever he tried to come and take her up to bed. "I'm fine, Logan. I just have a little more work to do," she explained time and again as she all but pushed him from the lab.

"Really?" Scott stepped forward, using the cane Professor Xavier had given him with an ease that belied the fact that he'd had it for less than a week. For the first time, he seemed genuinely hopeful. "You... you might have something to... to stop this?"

"Not to stop it, but to control it, yes," Jean replied. She took Scott's arm and led him to an exam table. "Here."

"Thanks."

Jean turned back to a nearby table and picked up the pair of ruby quartz sunglasses she had laid there earlier. She guided the glasses carefully onto Scott's face and his hands rose to help her. Almost afraid to touch him again, Jean jerked her hands away self-consciously and stepped aside. "The only thing in front of you now is a wall. Open your eyes."

"Are you... sure?" Scott swallowed nervously and shifted on the table.

"Very sure. Trust me, Scott."

"I do." Slowly, his head rose. From the sudden rush of relief and near-shock Jean felt, she knew it had worked.

"Scott?"

His face turned toward her and his mouth fell slightly open. "You're... beautiful."

Jean's cheeks turned pink. "You haven't seen anybody in a long time. You'd probably think Logan's beautiful right now," she said, trying desperately to lighten the moment.

"No. I remember what beautiful looks like very well," Scott replied, hand rising almost unconsciously to touch Jean's cheek. "You're beautiful."

Warning sirens sounded in almost every corner of Jean's mind, urging her to pull away. Logan... you love Logan. This is just... just... You need to stop this. "Scott, I-"

His hand pulled away quickly as if he already knew what she intended to say. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking down. "I didn't think."

"No, Scott, it's not... I... I've been with Logan for years now, and..." Jean shook her head, trying to clear it, to form thoughts she couldn't voice properly, even to herself. I love Logan,she repeated firmly to herself. But I want Scott. The words sounded wrong. More than that... She reached out to touch Scott's cheek gently and then gasped as she suddenly felt his mind open to her completely, all the mental walls he had erected so carefully falling before her.

Go ahead, a voice within her that was not her own urged. Effortlessly, Jean slid into Scott's mind. She felt pain first. Intense pain. Saw his parents, his brother, heard countless doctors. Felt the rejection of knowing that his family didn't want him, saw him as an embarrassment. Below that was fear. Of me? Of his own feelings, fear that if he did the wrong thing, he might lose her too. Then there was lust, a few half-formed images that left her cheeks burning. Beyond that was something she couldn't even begin to describe. It was more feeling than image. It was red. It was warmth. It was part of everything else and beyond it. Love. The feeling/image was echoed in her own mind, and Jean pulled the connection back into herself, letting Scott see her mind as she had seen his. Go ahead.

Perspective again grounded and centered on the physical, Jean watched as his mouth fell open. She imagined that if she could see his eyes, they would be wide. Jean smiled. Do you see?

I see. Before she could think, he was pulling her close, her body pressed tight against his, held in place by the hands planted firmly on her waist. The next second, Scott's lips were on hers and her hands were sliding around his neck, fingers in his hair. Scott... Warmth sang through Jean, and she couldn't pull away. Scott... A sudden flash of anger burned through her mind and she jerked away, guilt warring with desire for a place in her thoughts. "Logan..."

Jean took a step toward him and he growled low. "Don't." Without another word, he turned and stalked down the hall.

Jean hesitated. What the Hell are you waiting for, Jean? If you let him go... The feeling of warm hand on her shoulder completed the thought. She leaned back, knowing Scott would be there, reveling in the way she felt leaned against him. His arms circled her from behind and she turned her head until their lips met again. For someone who spent most of his life in an institution, his technique certainly hasn't suffered. Turning so that she could wrap her arms around Scott again, Jean wondered if she should stop, if it would be better to try to slow things down. The touch of his lips and the hands running over her body made thinking impossible, however, and Jean abandoned herself to the moment.

Logan could feel the claws beneath his skin itching for release, some half-forgotten voice inside him begging to be let out, pleading for a little bloodshed. You're overreactin'. It was a kiss. That's all. But her hands were all tangled up in his hair and she damn well looked like she wanted it that way... But things happen. You of all people should know that. Do ya really wanna lose 'er over one kiss? Aw, hell. Feeling stupid for not having dealt with the issue immediately, Logan wheeled around and headed back to the lab.

His entire body froze when he glanced in the clear window in the door to the lab. Jean and Scott were on an exam table, naked and quite thoroughly absorbed in each other. The anger he had been holding back flamed to the surface again, but before Logan could push open the door of the lab and demand to know what the hell they thought they were doing, a sense of loss more overwhelming than the rage washed over him, choking back the violence.

He stumbled back from the door as if it were suddenly too hot to touch. God... Logan swallowed hard and felt tears burning his eyes. I don't fucking cry,he told himself with frustration even as he felt the first warm tears trailing down his face. I don't... Cursing himself for being so stupid, he headed back down the hallway. His emotions reeled out of control. One second he wanted to turn around and tear both of them into a million pieces, the next to take Jean in his arms again and beg her not to leave him. Then again, he wanted to run away and forget it had ever happened, forget the years spent with Jean and the way he loved her even as his heart was breaking. I could just leave...

Suddenly he collided with an object that shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the hall and the roller coaster was halted for a moment.

"Hey!" Rogue's gloved hand came forward to grasp Logan's arm. Noting the tears, her face paled. "Oh, God, Logan, what's wrong? What's happened?"

Logan stopped himself sort of grabbing the girl and throwing her across the hall. "Lemme go, Marie," he growled.

"Not a chance in Hell," she replied firmly, eyes blazing. "If somethin's goin' on that's enough to have you this shook up, I'm damn well not lettin' you outta my sight until I know what it is."

He growled again and felt the claws fighting for freedom again. "Marie-"

"Don't you growl at me!" she snapped, hauling him toward the couch by his arm. "You keep forgettin' Ah'm stronger'n you are anymore, and Ah'm not lettin' you off the hook just because you get nasty." Not releasing her grip, Marie's dark eyes found Logan's. "What's goin' on?"

"Dammit, Marie, why do you hafta know me so well?" Logan groused, leaning back against the couch cushions. Her grip loosened and then fell away. "You know that guy Xavier sent us after?"

"Scott. Yeah. Well, Ah don't know'im, but Ah know who he is. Bit cagey 'bout talkin' to anybody but Jean from what Ah've seen," she commented. "Said hello to 'im one mornin' and you'd think Ah put a gun to his head from the look on 'is face."

"That's the one," Logan replied, eyes clear again and edged with a sort of hard bitterness. "Him and Jeannie... they..." He fought to keep the anger above the sadness. "More'n friends, let's say."

Rogue's mouth fell open. "Shit! Ah never would've... Ah'll be damned."

Had the situation been different, Logan might have told her to watch her language. As it was, he merely grunted and stared at the window over Rogue's shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Yer leavin', aren't ya? Gonna run away instead of facin' it. Damn, Logan, that's not the way you should play this."

His gaze snapped back toward her. "Why the hell not, Marie?"

"Because Jean isn't the only person here who cares about you and you know it. Ya got me here, and Ah know Ah consider you my best friend. Then there's 'Ro, and you know she likes ya pretty well. Hell, even the Professor's gotten used to havin' yer sorry ass around. Ah'm not gonna let you run out on us." Her eyes were every bit as flinty as his own, her jaw set. "You'll leave here over my dead body."

"I can't stay here after-"

"You sure as shit can."

Another growl rose in Logan's throat, but he bit it back. "You didn't see them together. You've never felt..." he struggled for words to describe what he had felt. "You've never lost somebody like that."

He caught the flash of pain that flitted across Rogue's face and wished he hadn't said what he had. "No, Ah haven't lost anybody like that. Ah haven't had anybody to lose. Ah'm not sayin' you don't deserve your pain, Logan," she said, rising from the couch, "but don't you dare act like you're the only one who's been hurt. We've all been hurt more times'n we can count. Part of livin', in case you've forgotten." Anger forgotten suddenly, Rogue's eyes softened. "Ya know where to find me if you wanna talk," she said before heading upstairs.

Logan waited until she was out of sight and then buried his head in his hands, unable to pretend anger was more important than pain for another moment.

  
  
Scott watched Jean's muscles shifting beneath the skin of her back as she slipped her blouse back on over her head. Part of him wanted her to turn around so that he could see her face while another part reminded him that if he could see her eyes, he might read regret there. I don't think I can take it if I lose her because of this. She had put up some sort of wall between them mentally, and despite the fact that they had been bonded only for a short time, Scott felt the loss sharply. It seemed odd not to have her thoughts entwined with his.

Unable to wait any longer, he addressed her softly, "Jean?"

She turned, and the warm smile curving her lips was enough to still some of his fears. The smile only partially reached her eyes, however. There was guilt in them, pain. Her eyes widened as if she suddenly understood why he had spoken. The wall fell immediately, and he could feel the love he had before wrapped up in the guilt and fear and pain. "No regrets," she said, hand clasping Scott's.

Scott reached out to pull her closer and she moved willingly, head falling against his bare shoulder and arms wrapping around his waist. "Are you sure, Jean?" It all seemed too easy, too perfect to be happening to him. Even with whatever complications her relationship with Logan might cause, Scott couldn't help but feel that everything was falling together too well.

"I'm sure. I just..." He felt pain coursing to the surface of her psyche. True to her word, Scott sensed no regret, just self-recrimination. "This happened so fast, and... I should have thought about Logan. This... I should have thought."

Pressing his lips to her hair, Scott whispered, "I'm sorry." It had been so long since he had let anyone close. That sensation alone had driven most rational thought from his mind. The new and overwhelming physical aspects added to it had served to thoroughly cloud his judgement. "I shouldn't have-"

"Don't." Jean pulled back, expression resolved. "I wouldn't change what happened even if I could. I can't explain the bond we share, but now... I need to go and talk to Logan."

Scott nodded his silent agreement. She shouldn't be in this position. God, I should have thought... "You... you don't..." He searched in vain for the right words to tell her not to feel obligated to him, to consider her feelings first. But he had never said anything like it, and he couldn't force the thoughts into reality. Frustrated, Scott sighed. "Just don't do anything you don't want to."

Jean smiled slightly and stood. "I won't." She began walking toward the door and then glanced back. "Will you be... Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Could that have sounded any less sincere?

Jean frowned but replied, "Okay."

Once she disappeared into the corridor, Scott let his shoulders sag. Part of him was bubbling over with happiness, but that was a part that Scott was used to hiding, used to leaving dormant in a far corner of his mind. On the surface were the doubts and guilt and fear ever dancing in dizzying circles and leaving him too drained to do more than sit.

The door suddenly hissed open and a beautiful woman with long pale hair that Scott figured must be white despite the fact that it registered as pink in his red-tinted world entered the room. Her dark eyes widened at the sight of the half-naked man on the exam table. "I'm sorry. I just came for bandages. A student cut her hand..." Suddenly stopping, she turned around.

Catching on, Scott pulled his shirt on. "Thanks."

The woman turned again and he saw a sense of recognition in her eyes. "Be careful."

"Wha-"

"With Jean. With Logan." The woman's voice was quiet as she stepped closer. "I have known Jean since my arrival here, Logan since he came. They may not seem... compatible, but they bonded almost at once. They have shared their lives since... Did you ever hear about an 'incident' at the Statue of Liberty?"

"I... it seems like one of the nurses mentioned something."

"Logan almost died that night. Jean didn't leave his side until he was well. And, come to think of it, not often after."

Why is she telling me all this? I don't even know her. Scott shifted uncomfortably.

"Why? Why tell you?" she said, catching the unspoken question. "Because I want to be sure that this is more than just..." her hand raised to indicate his ruffled hair, the pair of nylons left on the floor, and the skewed position of the table itself, "before anyone is hurt. Jean means the world to him. Be careful." Picking up a package of bandages, she offered Scott a wistful smile then disappeared, leaving him alone with his guilt.

Rogue had been expecting the knock on her door for quite awhile before it actually came, a hesitant tapping on the wood that seemed entirely mismatched considering the man doing it. "C'mon in, Logan." She sat up a little straighter on the bed, wishing she was wearing something a little nicer than sweats and that her hair wasn't tied back in a haphazard ponytail. Of course, most people don't wear any nicer to do their homework,she reminded herself with a slight smile.

He entered the room quietly and sat down in a chair next to the bed, gaze never meeting her eyes. "Hard?" he asked, indicating the books open on her bed.

"Junior year of college. Yeah, it's hard. Some of it. But it's worth it." She waited silently. He would come to whatever he really wanted to say in his own time, and she knew it.

"Talked to Jeannie." His eyes remained firmly on Rogue's bedspread, but she could see the slight sheen over them.

My dear God, Logan's about to cry... "Take it it didn't go real well?"

"You could say that." His voice was rough, and he stopped, let out a short growl. "Damn, I hate this."

Rogue took Logan's hand and tugged until he moved onto the bed with her, then wrapped her arm around his back. "Hey, sugah, it's all gonna work out. I promise you it will." She felt useless and silly, knowing the assurance would do little or nothing to ease Logan's pain. What else can I say? I'm not better at this sorta thing than he is. Hell, maybe I got the inability from him.

The sound of pained laughter pulled Rogue from her self-abuse session. "Thanks, Marie. It's... Everything'll work out." But the shining layer of tears had yet to disappear from his eyes.

"Oh, for God's sake, Logan, quit bein' such a tough guy for a damn minute, huh?" Rogue knew the words sounded harsh, but she knew Logan didn't respect anyone who tiptoed around things. "You're hurt. Your heart's broken. You don't have to be strong all the time. Just because you're a mutant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be human."

"Not that easy, Marie," he managed to choke out. "Hold back so long, and-"

"Aw, c'mere." Rogue placed the hand not around Logan's waist on the back of his head and drew it down until his cheek rested on her shoulder. "You don't hafta cry if you don't want to, but Ah'll be damned if Ah'm gonna just sit here and watch you put up walls. Not with me. Never with me." She heard what sounded like the beginning of a protest, felt him move to straighten, and held tighter. "Nuh-uh. Just let me do this, okay?" A moment later, Logan relaxed against her. Rogue leaned her cheek against his hair, breathing his scent: cigar smoke, sweat, and beer. Not exactly the sorta smell most girls would find attractive. Damned if everything about him... She broke the line of thought off forcefully. "It'll work out. I promise."

More precious moments passed in a sort of mutual, comfortable silence. The room was so still that even before she felt Logan's head moving against her shoulder, she could hear it, hear the almost crinkling noise of his hair shifting against the fabric of her shirt. Next came the feeling of his breath warm against her scarf-covered neck. It felt good, felt human and normal, so she didn't fight when his lips pressed against the thin scarf, breath and saliva warming and moistening the material. Her head tilted back of its own will, body enjoying the sensation, mind reveling at having Logan so close.

Then her eyes snapped open and her hands moved to his shoulders, shoving him roughly away. "Don't."

"Marie-"

Rogue shook her head firmly, swallowing hard. "You don't want me for me. If Ah thought for a second that you... If this was about us... You're hurtin'. You need somebody. Ah'll be here for ya, Logan, but Ah won't be your post break-up fling. Ah care about you too much for that." Her eyes had fixed on his and never left them as she spoke. "Ya understand?"

He nodded, looking confused and almost dazed. "I'm sorry, Marie. I didn't mean to-"

"Ah know. Don't worry about it. Doesn't change anything," she assured him, even though her neck was still warm, her body humming at being so near him.

Logan rose, walked to the door, almost staggering. "I'll-I'll talk to ya later."

"Yeah. Later."

Scott slipped into the kitchen and sighed in relief. So far, he'd been able to avoid contact with the inhabitants of the school by coming in between meals. He quietly prepared a sandwich, already anticipating a lecture from Jean when he went down to the infirmary to eat and watch her. She wanted him to talk to people, to try and fit in. She means well. He knew they wouldn't want to talk. Everybody here thinks I'm some sort of nutcase who just came to get into Jean's pants. Not that I've done a whole hell of a lot to dispel that belief...

"Sugah, you're gonna run into somebody sometime."

Scott whirled around, almost dropping the plate in his hands. Jesus, these people can move quietly! Anticipating any biting comments that might follow the young woman's statement, he said, "Don't worry. I'm going now."

"Not a chance. Ah wanna talk to you," Rogue said firmly, sitting down at the table. "C'mon, Ah don't bite."

After a moment of hesitation, Scott moved toward the table and slowly sat down, shoulders hunched as if it would make him less of a target. Here it comes... "What?"

"You're a friendly one, aren'cha? Look, Ah know everybody's givin' ya a hard time, and you're havin' trouble fittin' in and whatever, but just because it's hard doesn't mean ya shouldn't try." Rogue shook her head. "You keep avoidin' everybody like that'll make it better."

"So what do you suggest? A tea party?" Scott asked, unable to hold back his bitterness.

Rogue laughed gently, and the smile that lit her face seemed genuine. "Somehow Ah don't think that'd quite work out. It won't kill ya to talk to people, though. We aren't all jerks. Take me for example. Ah don't have anything against ya except the fact that ya never talk to me."

"So you don't care about-"

"Nope. Ah never thought they'd last forever. Never wished 'em anything bad, but they're not the same kinda people. Logan's all about instinct, and Jean thinks over everything." Her deep brown eyes held Scott in place. "Ah'll tell you somethin' Ah've never said to anybody. Ah love Logan. Just bein' near him... it feels like my whole body's on fire. Ah can't stand bein' away from 'im. That what it's like with Jean?"

"Pretty much." For some reason, Scott trusted the girl. He wanted her to trust him. She gets it. I think. "While all the other kids my age were out learning how to function in society, how to talk to people, how to ask girls out, I was in that goddamn institution. My parents never even visited. When the people came to take me away after I found out... I heard my mom crying. My dad," Scott snorted in disgust, "my dad told one of the guys--trying to make it quiet so I couldn't hear--told him, 'Get it out of my house'. Like I was some fucking ugly piece of furniture or something."

"Not easy bein' a mutant. Not for any of us." Rogue held up her gloved hands. "Ya know why Ah got these?"

Scott shook his head.

"If Ah touch people skin on skin, Ah suck their lifeforce. Ah take away their memories, their personalities... If Ah touch a mutant, Ah take their power for awhile. Ah touch somebody for too long and they die. You've had it bad, Ah'll give ya that, but at least you've got some kinda payoff. You've got Jean and you can hold 'er in your arms whenever ya want to, make love to her. Do you even know how lucky you are to have that?" she demanded quietly, eyes bright with tears of frustration.

Scott swallowed once and then nodded. "Yeah... yeah, now I do."

The woman nodded. "Good. Anyway, Ah'm Rogue. You're Scott. Now we've been introduced, we've talked. You're ready for the big leagues."

"Thanks, Rogue, for... just for coming and talking to me. It really..." Scott froze, the smile falling from his face.

Rogue turned in her chair to follow the line of his gaze. "Mornin', Sleeping Beauty. Damn near thought you weren't gonna join the land of the livin' today."

Logan grunted a reply, then glared at Scott. "Were you talkin' to him?"

"Still am, actually. Bein' neighborly."

His hand darted forward to catch her wrist and Scott pushed his chair back in reflex to the sudden motion. "Marie, what do you think-"

"Logan, you get your damn hand off of me or Ah'll..."

The words faded into background noise, a collection of harsh whispers and hissing voice as Scott walked into the hall, leaning back against it. Now he's angry with her too. My fault. I never should have come here. I should have stayed where I was.

The voices in the other room fell silent, and Scott heard light, commanding footsteps walking his way. Rogue's form appeared from around the corner, her lips set into a tight line. "Tonight, you're gonna come down to dinner and you're gonna eat with all of us like Jean's probably been tryin' to get ya to do since ya got here." An upheld hand dammed any oncoming protests. "He'll be off drinkin' and fightin' tonight to work it out. It'll be fine. We fight all the time. Both of us are too damn stubborn for anything else. But you're comin' to dinner."

"O-okay."

Rogue forced a quick smile. "See ya then."

Scott watched her walk away, feeling a knot begin to grow in the pit of his stomach. Can't wait.

TBC


End file.
